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Panting hard, Harry laid on his back. He could feel the grass tickling the back of his neck and he could smell the sweet blossom on the trees above him. Looking to his right, he smiled as he took in the sight of Draco lying next to him. He was also breathing heavily and his eyes were closed.
Watching as Draco's chest rose and fell, Harry reflected on their tumultuous past. Arguments and fist fights melted away and shy looks, laughter and secret smiles took their place as every interaction from first year until fifteen years later passed through Harry's mind. They'd long moved past their school days and Harry could hardly believe that things had turned out the way they had.
"What are you staring at?" Draco asked without opening his eyes.
"How'd you know?"
"I always know," Draco replied. "I've always known."
Harry gave a huff of laughter. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
"You. Me. Us," Harry replied. "Thinking of how things were."
"Stop it," Draco said, opening his eyes and looking at Harry. "Think of how things are now."
"I am," Harry assured him. "What are you thinking about?"
"How nice it was to breathe normally," Draco replied, his chest still heaving slightly. "Remember when we could do this for hours without even sweating?"
"Yeah... we're getting old," Harry sighed, turning his head once more to look at the sky.
"How dare you," Draco said in mock outrage. "You might be, but I am ageing gracefully!"
Harry snorted. "You're older than me," he pointed out. "By almost two months."
"Shut up," Draco said, sitting up. "Get your broom, we’re racing."